From Mistresses To Wives?

They certainly seemed to grow closer during the following days. The hotel was set in five acres of grounds, with miles of countryside beyond that to wander in. The sea was only a half a mile away. Zac went for a swim one morning, scorning Jessica’s view that it was far too chilly at this time of year for more than a paddle.

‘It’s bracing,’ he declared. ‘Invigorating!’

‘I don’t need invigorating,’ Jessica replied blandly, bringing a glint to the grey eyes.

She jumped back as he dropped the towel he was using to rub himself down and reached for her, but she was too late. The beads of cold water still adorning his body soaked through her shirt as he pulled her close, his mouth an irresistible force.

‘I’m soaked!’ she complained when he let her go.

‘Teach you not to underestimate me,’ he said.

Laughter bubbled on her lips. ‘As if I’d ever do that.’

There was an answering smile on his lips as he surveyed her. ‘Good thing you brought a jacket.’

Glancing down at herself, Jessica could see what he meant. With no bra beneath the clinging T-shirt, there was little left to the imagination.

‘I feel like a Page Three exhibit!’ she claimed ruefully.

‘There’s a hell of a sight more erotica about the way you look right now than in any bare boob display,’ Zac declared.

It was certainly having a visible effect on him, she noted as he turned away to continue drying himself. Stirring him physically was no problem. She only wished she could be as sure of his inner emotions.

He hadn’t mentioned his grandfather all week. Nor had he called the house to ask how he was doing. Jessica had begun to wonder if he might have guessed the truth himself. If he had, it obviously didn’t bother him too much, which gave her added hope.

That particular bubble burst on the Friday evening at dinner, when he expressed relief over the lack of communication.

‘Grandmother has the number here,’ he said. ‘She’d have called if anything had happened. We’ll go back and spend the weekend with them, anyway. It could be the last time we see him.’

Jessica swallowed on the dryness in her throat. Having kept it to herself the whole week made it no easier.

‘There’s something you should know,’ she said huskily. ‘Your grandfather isn’t dying. Not in the near future, at any rate.’

The candlelight was reflected in the eyes boring into hers across the width of the table. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘It was all a pretence. A ruse to force you into proving yourself.’

Zac viewed her for several moments in silence, face blanked of expression. ‘How do you know?’ he asked at length.

‘I mentioned it to Brady.’

‘Brady!’ The word was explosive.

‘He said apart from a touch of angina, your grandfather is strong as an ox,’ she carried on. ‘Something of an overstatement, perhaps, but you have to admit he doesn’t really give the impression of a man on the brink of death.’

The grey eyes narrowed. ‘You’re saying you suspected he was lying from the first?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘I just thought he was being very courageous about it. I know you said he could be ruthless, but it didn’t occur to me that anyone could be that ruthless.’

‘So why wait till now to tell me?’

It was the question she’d been dreading. She lifted her shoulders, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. ‘I wasn’t sure how to tell you.’

‘So you let me go on thinking there could be a phone call anytime.’

She forced herself to look at him, heart sinking as she met the chilly gaze. ‘I’m sorry. It just seemed…’ She broke off, spreading her hands in a helpless little gesture. ‘It was too late anyway. The wedding was over.’

‘It’s never too late,’ came the brusque response. ‘If you want out—’

‘I don’t!’ It was a cry from the heart. ‘Can’t,’ she amended swiftly, afraid of having given too much away. ‘If we break up, there’s a good chance your grandfather will cut you from his will. We were neither of us under any illusion about this marriage to start with, so nothing’s really changed?’

There was a lengthy pause before Zac responded. It was impossible to tell what thoughts were going through his mind. When he did speak it was with control.

‘You’re willing to carry on the way things are?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We can make it work, Zac.’

His lips slanted. ‘In one department, at least. Could be a lot worse, I suppose.’

Jessica kept her voice steady with an effort. ‘A whole lot worse. I realise you’ll probably want to confront your grandfather at some point, but there’s no reason for him to know there’s anything contrived about our relationship.’

‘You seem to have it all worked out,’ Zac commented. ‘Not that I’m complaining. Whatever it takes to keep the old devil sweet!’ He took the wine bottle and refilled her glass, lifting his own in ironic salute. ‘To a long and happy future!’

Jessica echoed the sentiment with heavy heart. Sex apart, the only thing keeping this marriage afloat was his fear of losing those damned shares! While ever his grandfather lived, he was stuck with the situation.

They made love as usual that night, but there was something definitely missing. Jessica lay sleepless for a long time afterwards, regretting ever having met Zac. He wasn’t going to fall in love with her. Eventually, he would even stop wanting her. When that happened, she was out of it regardless.

They drove back to Whitegates the following morning. Esther’s greeting was subdued.

‘I’m really sorry for deceiving you,’ she said to Zac, obviously taking it for granted that he’d been told the truth. ‘You seemed so reluctant to bring Jessica to meet us, he began to doubt she existed. You know your grandfather. Once he gets an idea in his head there’s no letting go.’

‘And he bullied you into going along with it.’ Zac smiled and shook his head as she opened her mouth to protest, bending to kiss her cheek. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

His grandmother might feel a lot less guilty if she knew how right her husband had been, Jessica reflected, but Zac obviously had no intention of telling her. Henry Prescott didn’t hold the monopoly on ruthlessness in this family—in the male line, at any rate.

They confronted the old man in the small sitting room, where he was ostensibly perusing a newspaper. There was no hint of contrition in the eyes he raised to the pair of them.

‘So Brady let the cat out of the bag.’

Zac’s jaw tautened. ‘You mean he was in on it too?’

‘Not until he asked me what was going on after Jessica here informed him I was dying.’ The last with a faint smile. ‘Not a total lie. We’re all of us heading for death from the moment we’re born.’

‘Supposing Zac had mentioned it to Brady when he first heard?’ asked Jessica.

‘There was little chance of that. You must have realised for yourself that my grandsons converse only where absolutely necessary.’ His gaze sharpened a fraction. ‘Would it have made any difference if you’d known the truth?’

‘Only in the time element,’ Zac cut in before she could answer. ‘We’d probably have waited a few more weeks, that’s all.’

‘No great harm done then. To the good, in fact. You’ve some catching up to do.’

Jessica took his meaning immediately. She opened her mouth to refute the suggestion, closing it again as she caught Zac’s glance.

‘What will be will be,’ he said mildly. To his grandmother, hovering in the background, he added, ‘Which room will we be using?’

‘The one Brady and Sarah usually have,’ she said, both sounding and looking relieved to have it over with. ‘I’m so glad you’re staying the night again.’

‘Might be the last chance we get for a while,’ Zac returned.

Esther’s face lit up. ‘I thought we’d have a barbecue this afternoon. Jimmy’s cleaning up the grid and laying the charcoal now. Our odd-job man,’ she added for Jessica’s benefit. ‘He can turn his hand to anything. Don’t know how we’d manage without him!’

‘We’d find somebody else,’ said her husband complacently. ‘Lunch in half an hour, you two, so don’t go getting involved in anything up there.’

Jessica gave a weak smile. The way she felt at the moment, it was most unlikely.

The room they were to share was spacious, with a four-poster bed that would normally have delighted her. Her wedding dress was hung on the wardrobe front in mute reminder.

‘You could at least have given him a piece of your mind for putting you through what he did!’ she said with force. ‘There’s no wonder he thinks he’s a law unto himself when you all kowtow to him the way you do!’

Zac shrugged. ‘What point would there be? The deed’s done. As we agreed last night, things could be a whole lot worse.’

As if to prove it, he drew her to him and kissed her, rousing her the way he always did.

‘You heard what your grandfather said,’ she murmured unsteadily against his lips. ‘Lunch in half an hour. Twenty minutes now, in fact.’

‘Time enough for some,’ came the reply, ‘but I was never into quickies.’ He put her from him again, his smile cursory. ‘It will save. Just unpack what you’ll need for tonight. We’ll be leaving right after breakfast.’

Jessica did so, wishing they could be on their way right now. The more she saw of Henry Prescott, the harder it was going to be to stop herself from telling him just what she thought of his underhand tactics. It was high time somebody did!

She went through the day with tongue held firmly in check—as much for Esther’s sake as Zac’s. Her marriage had taken place in an era when the man was still regarded as totalitarian head of the house. She’d probably never gone against him, and would no doubt find it upsetting if some other woman did.

The barbecue was some relief. Jessica and Zac shared the cooking, helped along by glasses of wine, while the older couple reclined on loungers on the wide patio.

Sheltered from the wind, it was wonderfully warm, the views superb. If things had been different, Jessica could have enjoyed spending further weekends down here. As it was, if they did come again it would be purely for show.

They left after lunch on the Sunday. Relieved though she was to be free of the constant temptation to tell Henry Prescott what she thought of his tactics, Jessica viewed their return to the mews cottage without enthusiasm. Zac would be going in to the office tomorrow, leaving her to do…what? She could get rid of Barbara and tackle the housework herself, but that was hardly going to tax her resources. She wasn’t cut out to be a stay-at-home wife.

‘I’m going to start looking for a job,’ she stated after several miles had gone by. ‘I’d go crazy cooped up in the house all day!’

‘It’s hardly a prison,’ Zac returned drily. ‘You’ve the whole city on the doorstep! An open cheque-book too, if that’s what’s bothering you.’

‘I don’t want your money!’ Her tone was abrupt. ‘I’d rather earn my own.’

‘You know Grandfather’s views on working wives,’ he said after a moment.

Jessica gave him a stinging sideways glance. ‘I realise you’d do just about anything to stay in his good books, but there’s a limit to how far I’m prepared to go. If you’re worried about his reaction, he doesn’t have to know.’

‘You mean lie about it.’

‘Only by omission.’

‘That’s splitting hairs.’

‘It’s maintaining the illusion,’ she retaliated. ‘The one you created to keep him sweet.’

A muscle jerked suddenly along the firm jawline. ‘I didn’t notice you putting up all that much resistance to the idea.’

She kept a cool tone with difficulty. ‘I don’t suppose I’m the first to allow principle to be overcome by lust. You’re a hard man to resist, Zac.’

‘Sure.’ His mouth had twisted. ‘Lucky we still have that much to keep us going. Assuming you weren’t putting on an act last night, that is?’

Jessica rode the hurt. ‘You know I wasn’t.’

‘I don’t know anything,’ he said. ‘Women have a distinct advantage when it comes to sex. They don’t have to prove arousal physically.’

‘Why on earth would I bother pretending to enjoy it if I didn’t?’ she demanded. ‘Like you said, it’s the one thing we have. As long as it lasts, at any rate.’

Zac kept his gaze on the road ahead, his expression impassive. ‘You see an end in sight?’

Swallowing on the lump in her throat, Jessica gave a brief shrug. ‘Not yet, but you know what they say about the first flush.’

‘Then we’d better make the most of it,’ he said.

There was no further mention of the job business, but Jessica had no intention of giving up on it. Obviously, Zac wasn’t going to find her anything, so she would fend for herself.

Chapter Seven

IT DIDN’T prove easy. Well thought of though she’d been in her previous job, her qualifications and experience fell somewhat short of requirements in London it seemed. After being accustomed to working for one man, the thought of general clerking held little appeal. The alternative was to find something completely different.

A part-time position advertised at a Kensington food store was too good an opportunity to miss. Working ten till four, five days a week, there was no need for Zac to know anything about it.

Jessica started on checkout, finding the work repetitive but not unendurable, the other staff friendly. The salary was no big deal, but it at least gave her some sense of independence.

Zac accepted her excuse that she’d been out shopping without question when he mentioned trying to get in touch a couple of times. He didn’t say why he’d wanted to speak to her, and Jessica hesitated to ask. Relations between them were strained enough as it was. Largely due to her, she had to admit. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t be here at all in normal circumstances.

She did her best to appear properly grateful when he presented her with a mobile for use in emergencies, making a mental note to get rid of the one she’d had for years and rarely bothered with. It would have to be switched off when she was at work, of course, so she could only hope he wouldn’t have cause to try contacting her during those hours.

The only place the barriers dropped completely was in bed. When Zac made love to her, nothing else existed. His unflagging desire was the one thing that kept her going. It couldn’t last, of course. Not to the same degree. One of these nights he would plead tiredness after a long day, and the end would have begun.

Only too well aware of what Leonie’s opinion would be, she made no mention of the job to her either, making out, when asked, that she was content to hang fire for a while on the matter. Her cousin was pretty busy with her own concerns, as it happened, leaving little opportunity for getting together. She brought Greg with her the one time she came to dinner at the mews, though still denying any serious involvement.

‘I’m just not cut out for marriage,’ she said in the kitchen where the two of them were making coffee while the men talked. ‘Maybe I’ll change my mind when I’m old and lonely, but in the meantime I’m happy the way I am—beholden to nobody.

‘It certainly suits you though,’ she added with a smiling glance. ‘The look of a woman fully and frequently satisfied. Not that I’d expect any less of Zac, of course.’

Jessica let the comment pass, knowing there was no malice in the teasing. She still found it difficult to think about Leonie and Zac together in any intimate sense, but there was no point in getting upset about it. She was the one he made love to these days. The only one—or she’d better be!

The weekend they spent in Edinburgh with Isabel proved a great deal more enjoyable than she anticipated. The family consisted of a brother and wife, along with two married children who both lived within a few miles of the city with families of their own. Asked when they might consider taking the step themselves, Zac took it on himself to answer for them both with a smile and a shrug, giving the impression that they were already trying.

‘I’m not having a baby just to please your grandfather!’ Jessica stated when they were alone.

‘I’m not asking you to,’ Zac returned levelly. ‘If we started a family, it would be because we both of us wanted it.’

Unlikely, then, Jessica reflected, stifling the pang. Children belonged in a proper, balanced relationship based on love and commitment, not an arrangement like theirs that could end any time.

‘Sarah must be getting close now,’ she said. ‘Brady would have let you know, wouldn’t he?’

‘You can bet on it.’ Zac’s tone was dry. ‘He insisted on knowing the sex as soon as it was possible. If it had proved to be a girl, he’d have gone up in flames! Sons are de rigueur in his eyes.’

Looking at him through the dressing table mirror as he slid cuff links into place, Jessica felt the usual stirring in the pit of her stomach, the wave of heat building swiftly from that central core. From the top of his well-groomed dark head to the tip of his hand-made shoes, he was pure masculinity. She wanted him desperately—any way she could have him, and for as long as she could have him.

Sensing her regard, he looked round, meeting her eyes through the mirror with a familiar glint springing in his own.

‘You’re insatiable!’ he said softly. ‘Not that I’m complaining. What man would?’

He came over and drew her to her feet, bending his head to kiss his way up the taut line of her throat to finally reach her lips. Jessica kissed him back with passion. She came down to earth with reluctance when he put her regretfully from him.

‘We’ll get back to this later. We’re due at the restaurant in twenty minutes. Don’t go cold on me.’

Some chance, she thought wryly. All he had to do was touch her to have the blood throbbing in her veins again.

They’d flown up on the Friday night. They travelled back Sunday evening, arriving home around midnight.

Zac was normally out of the house by eight-thirty at the latest. This particular Monday it was coming up to half-past nine when he finally departed, leaving Jessica to throw her things together and dash for the bus she knew had no chance of getting her to work on time.

She was twenty minutes late, and earned herself a severe ticking off from the self-important manager. Jessica controlled the urge to tell him what he could do with the job. Finding another offering the same advantages when it came to hours and proximity would be difficult, and she still couldn’t face the thought of spending her days mooning around the house. In any case, she would miss the friends she’d already made here.

‘Sour-faced old prune!’ sympathised one of the latter who’d been in the vicinity, as Jessica took her place at the next checkout desk. ‘Bet his wife gave him the elbow last night. Not that I’d blame her. He’s a real misery guts!’

‘I was late,’ Jessica returned ruefully. ‘I suppose he had reason to get a bit shirty.’

‘A bit!’ The other snorted. ‘Doesn’t know the meaning of moderation, that one!’

Jessica turned her attention to the young woman who’d just unloaded her trolley onto the belt, saying a cheery ‘Hello’ to the toddler in the folding seat. A boy around two years old, he returned her gaze with solemn intensity.

‘He’s been chattering away all round the shop,’ declared his mother in fond exasperation. ‘Now you’d think he didn’t have a tongue in his head!’

Jessica smiled. ‘He’s quite right not to talk to strangers. What’s his name?’

‘Gavin,’ she supplied. ‘Just three, and a total pickle! I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t been quite so emphatic about not having a nanny when he was born.’

‘It isn’t too late,’ Jessica ventured, drawing a laugh and a shake of the head.

‘Too much of a climb down. My husband would never let me forget it! He’ll be going to nursery school before too long, anyway. That will at least give me a morning or two to myself.’

She went on chatting amiably while her goods were totalled, departing with a smile and a wave. Jessica could see part of the store car park from where she sat. The personalised number plate on the Range Rover into which the woman loaded both shopping and child was a status symbol in itself. In the nanny bracket financially, if not by choice, she judged.

She was late getting home that afternoon, because the manager insisted on her making up the time she’d lost. She got in bare minutes before Zac, who had elected to take early leave himself for once.

‘Board meetings run me ragged!’ he declared, pouring himself a stiff whisky. ‘I’m seriously considering turning beachcomber on a desert island somewhere!’ He viewed her over the rim of the glass, taking in her wind-blown hair and casual dress. ‘What have you been doing with yourself?’

‘I went to the Gardens,’ Jessica lied. ‘I felt like a walk. I took a taxi,’ she added, anticipating the next question. ‘There and back.’

The strong mouth took on a slant. ‘I’d hardly expect you to go by bus. Maybe we should think about getting you a car of your own.’

‘I’m not up to inner city driving,’ she said. ‘Anyway, there isn’t room for another car in the mews.’

Zac studied her in silence for a moment, gaze too penetrating for comfort. ‘We could move.’

‘Where?’ she asked.

‘Out of the city. Richmond, perhaps. Somewhere less congested, at any rate.’

Somewhere better to raise a child, came the fleeting thought, followed by an emphatic shake of the head. ‘I don’t want to move. I like it here, within easy reach of everything.’

His shrug was easy. ‘Fair enough. I can’t say I’m all that eager to abandon the place myself. We’re invited out to dinner tomorrow night, by the way. Ian Grant, one my fellow directors. His wife is about your age.’

‘Just us?’ Jessica asked.

‘No, there’ll be others there. Nothing too formal. That silver grey number you wore the other night will do fine.’

‘I may not have moved in your circles before, but I don’t need advising on how to dress,’ she said shortly.

‘That wasn’t the intention.’ Zac sounded short himself. ‘Stop being so damned touchy!’

Jessica caught herself up before the snappy rejoinder could leave her lips. ‘Sorry,’ she proffered instead, trying to look it. ‘I’m just feeling a bit on edge.’

He considered her pensively. ‘About what?’

‘Nothing. Everything.’ She shook her head again, forcing a smile. ‘It takes a lot of getting used to, this marriage lark. You must feel the same way yourself.’

‘To a degree,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m not complaining. You’re worth coming home to.’

She melted immediately. Zac was making every effort; the least she could do was reciprocate.

They made love on the sitting room floor, pillowed by cushions purloined from the sofas. Jessica only realised he wasn’t using anything when it was too late to do anything about it. Not that she really wanted to, she had to admit. Making love in the raw, so to speak, was even more ravishing. She was still on the Pill, anyway.

She made sure to be on time at work the next morning, taking it that with a dinner engagement to get ready for, Zac might be early again. She needn’t have worried as it happened, because it was almost seven o’clock when he arrived.

‘Traffic,’ he said succinctly. ‘We’ll be taking a taxi to the Grants’. It’s parking by permit only in their area. You look good,’ he added. ‘I’ll try to live up to you.’

The day he looked anything but good himself would be a first, Jessica reflected as he disappeared upstairs. She took a look at herself in a mirror, all prettied up in silver grey. An attractive enough sight, she supposed, though nothing particularly outstanding in her view. Leonie, for instance, could beat her for looks any day of the week!

The Grants, it turned out, lived in Kensington. Already on edge over the coming evening, Jessica felt her heart plunge even further as she registered the number plate on the Range Rover standing outside the elegant terraced home. She thought wildly of pleading a sudden migraine, but it was hardly going to be believed. All she could hope for was a lack of recognition on her hostess’s part.